


no better version of me I could pretend to be tonight

by theglitterati



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (they're in their 30s in this), Chubby Bokuto Koutarou, Insecurity, M/M, Married Life, Supportive Akaashi Keiji, Weight Gain, a tablespoon or so of body worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26977597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theglitterati/pseuds/theglitterati
Summary: Bokuto has a new weakness — his weight. Akaashi makes him feel better.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 24
Kudos: 213





	no better version of me I could pretend to be tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Jackie And Wilson" by Hozier.

It was always interesting, discovering a Bokuto weakness.

Akaashi hadn’t found a new one in ages; ten years of marriage didn’t leave many secrets between them. He couldn’t remember what number he was at — eighty-seven? Eighty-nine? He supposed it wouldn’t matter until he figured out what was going on.

Bokuto emerged from the bathroom, sighing heavily, in nothing but a towel. “Are you alright?” Akaashi asked.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine.” He leaned over Akaashi’s shoulder. “Whatcha readin’?”

“Nothing, if you keep dripping on me.” Akaashi moved his book out of the spray zone of Bokuto’s hair. “You know we have to leave in ten minutes, right?”

He kissed Akaashi on the forehead. “I know. I’ll be ready.”

He was not, in fact, ready.

“Kou?” Akaashi knocked on the bedroom door — it was strange enough that it was closed — fifteen minutes later. “We’re gonna be late!”

The door opened. “Ready!”

Akaashi looked Bokuto up and down. “You took that long getting dressed and that’s what you’re wearing?” He had on loose, grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, really.” Bokuto looked as cute as ever. His hair was longer now, falling into his face, and the t-shirt put his generous arm muscles on display. “I just don’t know how fancy the place Konoha-san picked is. And I feel overdressed now.” He gestured down at his tailored trousers and wool sweater.

“Nah, you look great!” Bokuto slipped past him. He pulled on a jean jacket and beanie at the door. “No time to change now, right?”

Akaashi frowned. “Right.”

They met Konoha at a pub near his apartment. Akaashi was relieved that it was casual, though Konoha was dressed better than either of them in jeans and a button-down. They took a booth near the back, away from the rowdy youngsters at the bar. Akaashi loved being old enough to call twenty-somethings rowdy.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you guys in forever,” Konoha said, after they’d ordered drinks. “Akaashi, how’s your new job?”

“It’s good.” Akaashi had recently changed careers, taking a job about the local university’s library. “It’s less stressful, and I feel like I’m doing more good in the world, if only a little.”

“Plus, I actually get to see him for more than two hours a day now,” Bokuto added, throwing an arm around Akaashi’s shoulder and kissing his cheek.

“Wow, you guys are still _so_ sappy,” Konoha complained, like he wasn’t a groomsman at ther wedding. “What about you, Bokuto? Still loving retirement?”

Bokuto smiled down at the table. “It’s better now.” He’d had a hard time when he retired from playing professionally a year ago, at the age of thirty-five. He spent a few months lying around the apartment in an unending bad mood before getting a job coaching a high school girls team. “We made it to the quarter finals at Interhigh, which was pretty awesome. I think we can do even better next year.” Akaashi loved the shine he got in his eyes when he talked about his team. “And there’s one girl on the team, a middle blocker, who—”

Their server appeared, cutting off Bokuto’s bragging. “Are you ready to order?”

“Sure,” Konoha said. “I’ll have the beef sukiyaki, please.”

“Great. For you?” She turned to Bokuto.

“Tofu salad.”

Akaashi and Konoha both gasped.

“Am I losing my hearing?” Konoha asked. “Did you, _Bokuto,_ just order a salad?”

Bokuto fiddled with the hem of his jacket. “Yeah. So?”

It suddenly clicked in Akaashi’s head. The sighing in the bathroom, the sweatpants. The tofu.

Bokuto-san weakness, number TBD: he was insecure about his weight.

“Tofu salad sounds great,” Akaashi said. “I’ll have the same.”

Konoha narrowed his eyes as the waitress took their menus away. “Marriage has changed you guys.”

“Quit distracting us with questions about ourselves and tell us about your new girlfriend,” Akaashi shot back. Konoha balked.

He told them, though they had to drag the information out of him. Akaashi took that as a good sign; he tended to be reticent when he actually liked somebody. Their food arrived, and Bokuto pushed his around the plate while Akaashi and Konoha kept up conversation. It was a decent salad, but it left Akaashi unsatisfied, as it surely did Bokuto. 

“Would you like any dessert?” their server asked.

“We’ll just take the cheque,” Bokuto said.

They hugged Konoha goodbye outside, promising (threatening) to meet his girlfriend soon, and hopped on the train. Akaashi barely let Bokuto get his shoes at home off before pushing him towards the bedroom. 

He pointed to the bed. “Sit.” Bokuto sat. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“You’ve already figured it out, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then why do I have to say it!?”

Akaashi brushed Bokuto’s hair back from his face. “So I can be a supportive husband and make you feel better.”

Bokuto smiled sadly. “Fine.” He took a deep breath. “I’m fat.”

Akaashi gave him a long look over the rim of his glasses. “So?”

Bokuto’s mouth fell open. “Keiji! That’s not what you’re supposed to say! You’re supposed to say, ‘No you’re not, you’re sexy and awesome!’”

“You are sexy and awesome,” Akaashi said, “and having put on weight isn’t contradictory to that.”

“I don’t _feel_ awesome,” Bokuto grumbled. “I’ve put on twelve kilos since I retired. Twelve kilos in a year! I had to wear these pants to dinner because none of my jeans fit anymore!”

“We can buy you new jeans,” Akaashi said. Bokuto pouted. “Come here.”

He backed Bokuto up into the headboard, crawled into his lap, and tugged at his shirt. “May I?”

“Keiji—”

“Please.”

Reluctantly, Bokuto pulled it off. Akaashi ran his hands over his chest and stomach. “What is so bad about this?”

“What’s good about it?” Bokuto muttered. Akaashi tipped his chin up, forcing him to look at him. “I have, like— like, man boobs now.”

Akaashi snorted. “You’ve always had those; they were just harder before.” He pushed his fingers into the supple flesh. “I like them like this.” He flicked at a nipple, making Bokuto squirm.

 _“Sensitive,”_ he whined.

“I’m aware. What else is bothering you?”

He pointed to his stomach, which protruded over the hem of his sweatpants. “I don’t have abs anymore.”

“Neither do I.”

“Yeah, but you’ve had a lot longer to get used to it.”

“Hey!” Akaashi plucked up a pillow and gently smacked him with it. “Mean. But you’re right, unfortunately.” He lifted his own shirt. He was still thin, but his stomach was doughy, and scarred from where he’d had his appendix removed four years ago.

Bokuto kissed him above his belly button. “You look perfect.”

Akaashi laughed. “No, I don’t. It’s not like my body hasn’t changed, too. I have wrinkles and grey hairs, I have carpal tunnel” — he wore a brace on his wrist at night — “I can’t see a foot in front of me without my glasses—”

“But I think you’re gorgeous,” Bokuto cut in.

“Then why is it so hard for you to believe that I think you’re gorgeous, too?” Akaashi took Bokuto’s face in his hands. “You’re handsome, and strong, and you’re still a talented athlete. I think you’re amazing.”

“And sexy?” Bokuto asked.

“And _very_ sexy.”

He finally gave Akaashi a real smile. “I love you, Keiji.”

“Love you, too, Kou. You know, there’s one spot in particular where you’ve gained weight that I’m, uh, kind of really into.”

“Is it my butt?” Bokuto asked.

“Maybe. Maybe you should let me see it.”

“Anything for you, dear husband.” He flipped over and tugged his sweats down to his thighs.

Akaashi dug his fingers in. Bokuto had always had a great ass — a weakness of Keiji’s own — but the added jiggle and new curves were definitely working for him. Akaashi leaned closer.

“Ah! Did you just bite me?”

Akaashi grinned. “For starters.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at kyrstin.tumblr.com!


End file.
